


Wrong Number

by keys2thebimma



Category: Big Bang (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drunk Dialing, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keys2thebimma/pseuds/keys2thebimma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiyong dials the wrong number and an angel comes to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Number

The sun is just beginning to peep over the horizon by the time Jiyong finally makes his way out of Club Octagon. More like stumbles out of the door and almost falls flat on his face, but whatever. He’s still shit-faced, vision blurred and speech slurred. He’s not seen Seungri for the past 2 hours - maybe the kid scored with those two Japanese chicks. Jiyong grins dopily as he pats down his pockets to find his phone. His smile doesn’t even waver when he can’t find it, that’s how drunk he is. Through fuzzy vision he manages to drag himself to the bus stop across the road where he can see a pay phone, as well as avoid being hit by a speeding moped – smile intact all the way. He fishes a number of coins from his pocket and feeds them into the slot of the pay phone. Somehow he manages to navigate the key pad to type in the number he’s had memorised for years.

The phone rings for a while and Jiyong tries to focus his sight on the posters pasted to the bus stop. He’s so distracted that he misses the person on the line picking up the phone.

“Youngbae!” Jiyong’s voice is way too loud for this time of morning “I need you to pick me up. I’ve lost Seungri and my phone. . . . And I think that scarf I picked up in that sample sale two seasons ago”. Jiyong’s smile wavers at the realisation. He really liked that scarf, and he’d got it for such a steal.

He’s too busy mourning the loss of his scarf to notice the long pause on the other side of the phone.

“Who is this?”

“I’m at the bus stop near to Club Octagon. I’m really hungry and I’m really fucking drunk. I miss my scarf” Jiyong’s voice cracks as he slurs into the phone. “Are you going to pick me up or what?”

Another pause on the other side. “I think you have the wrong number, my friend”.

Jiyong can’t help but roll his eyes.

“This isn’t the time to be messing about, Youngbae”. Tears start to prickle the corners of Jiyong’s eyes. He’s always been an emotional drunk. “I’m having to use this dirty payphone, can you imagine the germs surrounding me right now? I don’t know where Seungri is and I’m really cold without my scarf!” Jiyong is babbling by now and he lets out a huge sniff when he’s finished talking.

“Fine. Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.”

Jiyong sighs when the line goes dead and hangs up the receiver. He drops down to his knees, trying to stop the earth from spinning around him. He closes his eyes and slumps his head against the glass of the bus stop. _Youngbae shouldn’t be too long…_

Jiyong is pulled from his nap by someone gently shaking his shoulder. The hand feels warm and soft, kind of like Jiyong’s scarf – that thought alone reminds Jiyong of how drunk he still is. Jiyong opens his eyes and waits until his hazy vision focuses on the figure in front of him.

It’s certainly not Youngbae. This guy is way taller than Youngbae and is solidly built. Jiyong’s eyes trace the man’s body; from the hand still on his shoulder up to the muscular arm, across the broad shoulders and onto this stranger’s face. And what a face it is! Smooth tan skin, luscious hair, full lips – everything that ticks Jiyong’s boxes.

“Are you ok there? I’m the guy you called to come and get you.” The stranger’s voice is low and husky, and in his current state it makes Jiyong feel _things_. Things he hadn’t felt since he and Seunghyun had finally broken up. But that’s neither here nor there.

“Where’s Youngbae?” Jiyong blurts out.

“Probably sleeping. You dialled my number instead of his”. The stranger stands up from where he is crouching next to Jiyong and offers his hand to the smaller man. “Did you still need a ride?”

Jiyong stares at the proffered hand. He’s never met this guy, is he really going to accept a lift from a complete stranger?

“You left your house to come and give a drunken stranger a lift in the middle of the night?” Jiyong can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. _Who was this guy?_

The stranger gives a small smile and rubs the back of his neck. “You sounded like you needed help, so I came to help”.

Jiyong finds himself smiling in response to this guy’s own smile. The stranger has a kind face and Jiyong can’t help but trust him. He reminds Jiyong of the angels he sees in children’s books. He stretches out his own hand and allows the stranger to pull him to his feet. “I’m Jiyong, by the way”.

“Hello Jiyong, I’m Kang Daesung. My car is just around the corner”.

Jiyong allows himself to sink into Daesung’s side as he’s escorted to the car. He mentally squees when Daesung opens the passenger door for him and checks that his seatbelt it secured. Jiyong sighs softly as he relaxes into the leather of the seat. It’s warm in the car and he still feels sleepy.

“Where should I take you?” Daesung’s soothing voice caresses Jiyong’s eardrum and sleep feels ever closer. Jiyong’s eyelids flutter closed as he murmurs his address and he’s already asleep by the time Daesung’s car pulls off.  


End file.
